The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography by Duncan McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

better to speak frankly about the true dangers of the mouse, though it is horrendous to hear, than to tame the warning, thereby ensuring it carries no force and many more people fall victim to this gruesome creature.
    Now, I do not tell this tale of the mouse merely to illustrate the hazards of my voyage, for, as I lay in my cabin, this matter of providing a warning about the dangers of the mouse started to tap upon my mind, and I began to address myself to the challenge. Soon, a very wonderful idea came to me, almost as a vision. I saw before me the image of KingThyatus, who died after his victory at theBattle of Neppo Sound. It is now widely accepted that Thyatus died from intaking a mouse as he lay recovering from his battle wounds, and in my vision I saw the great king, sitting in his bed, naked except for his war helmet, pointing skyward with his right arm, and leaning on his left. His legs were swathed in satin sheets, and from his mouth, causing him the greatest alarm, protruded the tail and hindquarters of a mouse as it scrambled towards his throat on its deadly mission.
    The vision filled me with the utmost awe and dread, for consider, this glorious king, whose war victory had brought him all Asia as its trophy, now lay conquered himself, and by nothing more than a common mouse. And yet, is this not the capricious nature of all life’s victories for every one of us?
    You will certainly appreciate, then, this vision of mine was a very remarkable one, and would have made a fine sculpture or a painting—and this would by no means have been beyond my talents, for I have created many paintings and sculptures, and all who saw them, including many of the finest artists in Cyprus, wondered I had not made the pursuit of these arts my life’s work instead of playing with them merely as a pastime, for it was clear to them I had the makings of all the greatness of aRanascawan or aTybalt. Indeed, the great Azelian artistChiamo Thredeem said of one of my paintings that it was “finer than any created by Tybalt.” Naturally, I give these words little heed, and I quote them here merely as an amusement. Nevertheless, it is worth considering that Thredeem’s reputation as a great artist went hand in hand with his standing as a critic, and he was not wont to give praise idly.
    To realize my vision in this way, though, would have been to betray it. For, as it came before my mind’s eye, I saw tiny mites crawling upon the sheets of King Thyatus, and a green lawn around him. Then, as I examined the vision more intently, I saw the mites were people, and the lawn was a vast forest. In short, the image I had seen was not merely a statue, but a great tower cunningly wrought into a statue’s shape. I named the work The Grief of King Thyatus , or the Grief for short.
    Upon realizing the extent of this inspired vision, I was filled with the most intense excitement and zeal, and was no longer able to sleep, for fear some detail of the conception would vanish before I woke. I therefore spent all night drawing plans and writing notes, and even as I wrote, more ideas came flooding into my head, until at last I called for the head slave and spoke ideas aloud for him to capture in writing, while I wrote further ideas by my own hand. The sun was rising before the visionary deluge finally subsided, whereupon I retired to my bed and slept very soundly until late the same afternoon.
    During the next day, the weather worsened, so we were constantly sailing through sleet and drizzle, and my reading upon the deck was brought to an end. With my wonderful new mission, however, this mattered to me not a jot. I remained in my cabin, now suddenly caring nothing for the smell of the eels, and I prepared detailed plans for the construction of the great colossus I had envisioned.
    A further week passed in this way until the plans were, in most respects, complete. When I say “plans,” I refer not to the appearance or layout of the structure—as in Luthen,